


just place your hands on my hips

by rarestsenpai



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Also I can never decide if I want to spell his name as Yuri or Yuuri in fics, College AU, Fluff and Humor, M/M, There's drinking cause COLLEGE PARTY AU, We don't have fraternities from where I'm from tbh, Would Yuri do this?????? But he's had some liquid courage so mAYBE???????, did I make Victor a fraternity boy??????, tbh the whole time I was writing this I was like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 02:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10981353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarestsenpai/pseuds/rarestsenpai
Summary: Who hasn't heard of Victor Nikiforov?Playboy extraordinaire, heir to a corporation worth billions of dollars, owns not just one but seven hundred pairs of Gucci sunglasses and probably has his wardrobe insured for eighty five million dollars.It isn’t until Victor starts laughing that he realises he’s been babbling all this to him the whole time. Yuri blinks up at him, apology ready on the surface of his lips. Oh dear, Victor’s going to be mad.Instead, there’s a mischievous twinkle in Victor’s eyes.





	just place your hands on my hips

There’s a nagging at the back of Yuri’s mind that tells him he has an essay due tomorrow at precisely 8 o’clock in the evening that he should be working on right now.

But he can’t really bring himself to care right now as he brings another glass to his lips and downs shot after shot in some fancy fraternity house at the edge of the campus. The high he gets from the cheap alcohol tastes like gold and he’ll feel invincible until he wakes up the next morning in regret.

Stumbling to his feet and through the crowd, he whirls around to find Phichit laughing with a stranger. He knows what he’s doing is a little rude, making attempts to grasp at the hem of Phichit’s shirt before finally grabbing at his friend’s wrists. Phichit gives the stranger a quick apologetic wink and lets Yuri pull him towards the dance floor.

“Wha-”

“Dance with me,” Yuri blurts out as an explanation.

“Yuri!” Phichit cries, clumsily reaching up to pat Yuri’s flushed cheeks, “Glad to see you’re enjoying yourself! Less like a zombie now!”

Neither of them takes themselves seriously as they fall into something that vaguely resembles a waltz. Bumping into each another more often than not, they giggle with their faces pressed into each other’s shoulders and Yuri feels very much like a bubble rising in liquor.

For a moment, the light catches on Phichit’s lips and _oh_.

Yuri wants to kiss someone.

He really, _really_ wants to.

(Alright, so Yuri might be a lot more of a horny drunk than he lets himself believe.)

At some point, Phichit grabs his shoulders and yells out an “I love you!” at the top of his lungs and Yuri yells it back as loud as he can, letting himself believe that he could fall in love with anyone under the heady spin of the loud thumping bass and the alcohol buzzing through his system.

“Yuri? Where are you goin-”

Maybe it’s the stress from school getting to his head or maybe it’s the liquid courage coursing through his body. Yuri’s eyes are drawn towards a certain person from across the room in an instance and he feels his heart jump in his mouth. Yuri’s seen him around the campus but in the dark of the flashing lights, the blue of his eyes sends his thoughts reeling and he’s walking up to him before he even wonders why he would ever avoid him in the first place.

Victor Nikiforov.

Who _hasn’t_ heard of him? It might seem like an exaggeration considering how large the student population can be in college but somehow _everyone’s_ heard of him even if all they’ve ever done is camp out alone at the library.

Playboy extraordinaire, heir to a corporation worth billions of dollars, owns not just one but seven hundred pairs of Gucci sunglasses and probably has his wardrobe insured for eighty five million dollars. If only Yuri could just feel how soft Victor’s hair truly was, he might be able to believe that it was insured for twice that amount.

What was that rumour Yuri heard the other day again? Oh right, apparently Victor has his very own version of the _Playboy_ mansion which is ten times grander than the original and houses one hundred servants. In fact, the mansion is so impressive that presidents from all over the world are apparently invited for dinner every weekend.

_Hi my name is Yuri Katsuki and I can’t believe I’m standing in front of a living legend._

It isn’t until Victor starts laughing that he realises he’s been babbling all this to him the whole time. Yuri blinks up at him, apology ready on the surface of his lips. Oh dear, Victor’s going to be mad.

“A billion dollars would be great but I’m actually barely getting by with student loans.”

Instead, there’s a mischievous twinkle in Victor’s eyes.

“But yes, I do hate it when my servants don’t come to my beck and call.”

Then, they’re both laughing—wide grins and stuttering breaths because they can’t stop and everything seems ten thousand times funnier under the influence of alcohol. Victor’s eyes are crinkling at the edges and Yuri swears he feels a warm buzz weaving through his heart.

“You’re a student here too, aren’t you?” Victor says as he leans closer, pausing to let Yuri give a nod of acknowledgement, “I saw you dancing with your friend. You look like you know how to have a fun time, _Yuri_.”

On a normal day, Yuri would have gone red, all the way up to his ears. He would have stammered out a denial and probably buried himself in a hole.

On a normal day, Yuri wouldn’t even be talking to _Victor._

Yuri smells the alcohol on Victor’s breath and couldn’t help but to think that the man who seems to everything—Victor Nikiforov, could actually sound _wistful_.

Shaking off any last bit of hesitation, Yuri downs the rest of his drink and gives a cheeky grin, “Dance with me.”

The look on Victor’s face is absolutely worth it.

He lets Victor lead at first and he notices himself responding easily, mirroring each of Victor’s moves.

“Aren’t you full of surprises, hm?”

“I did do a bit of ballet and breakdancing. You’re not too bad yourself.”

Victor smiles, “Ah, modest too! Thank you. I do think I could have been an ice skater in another life, you know?”

Yuri wants to tell him that it wasn’t hard to imagine at all. Hanging at the back of his throat is a clumsy confession that he’s probably spent more time than he’ll ever admit observing the way Victor exudes grace and power with every step he takes.

“So,” Victor laughs, “The talented Yuri does ballet and breakdancing! What else could he possibly surprise me with?”

Yuri feels his cheeks burn as an idea crosses his mind and he turns to stare at their intertwined hands, trying his best to push the thought aside.

“Yuri?”

There is something about the way Victor gazes at him that makes his heart race, setting off a sudden sense of urgency that sears through his veins which sends him into autopilot. He tugs Victor close—close enough to smell the subtle scent of aftershave on Victor’s skin and whispers something that makes his pupils blow wide.

“You _have_ to show that to me someday,” Victor says, sounding rather breathless. Yuri chuckles in response, feeling the hard muscles of Victor’s thigh as he dips him down before pulling him back up again.

The music changes and the beat slows to a hypnotic, sensual beat and Yuri doesn’t care anymore, his mind reeling and he wants, wants, _wants_ Victor more than anyone else in the room, more than anything _ever_.

His fingers are burning with urge, seeking out smooth cheeks and the breath against his own lips and then he’s kissing him. Eyes fluttering shut, Yuri almost breathes out a sigh of relief when he feels Victor respond, hands resting against his hips. Victor’s lips are cold from his drink and the slightest bitter taste of gin lingers on them but the alcohol isn’t what convinces Yuri that he’s drunk on the feeling of Victor, parting his lips to deepen the kiss.

With Victor’s body is pressed fervently against his, Yuri lets the music guide his hips, swaying as Victor lets out a small moan against his lips. He kisses a trail along Yuri’s jaw and up to a small spot behind Yuri’s ear that drives him crazy. There’s barely any space between them now and Yuri gasps as he recognises the feeling of pure, unadulterated lust running through his veins, driving his need to get closer and closer to Victor.

“Let’s head somewhere much more private,” Victor murmurs against his lips and Yuri moans out a _God, yes_ before following Victor away from the dance floor.

When they get to the bottom of a staircase, Victor turns around and says, “By the way, it’s Victor, not God.”

“ _What?_ ”

Yuri freezes dumbfounded for a while before it finally occurs to him what Victor was talking about and he groans.

“Oh my god, Victor, you chose this one out of all the lines in the world? You’re such a dork!”

“No I’m not!”

Yuri lets out a laugh, “You are!”

“I’m attractive!”

“Well, then you’re a beautiful dork!”

“ _Yuri Katsuki, did you just tell me I’m beautiful?_ ”

The tone of Victor’s exclamation isn’t even the least bit teasing. A genuine smile stretches across his lips and the look he gives Yuri full of wonder and overwhelming joy at the simple compliment that slips from Yuri’s mouth.

“No I didn’t,” Yuri replies.

“You did! Say it again, Yuri!”

“I never said anything, Victor. I only said that you’re a dork.”

“And broke my poor, fragile heart!”

Unable to hide the amusement teasing the corners of his mouth, Yuri presses a soft kiss onto Victor’s cheek. He blushes from the small act despite remembering how they had behaved earlier on the dance floor.

“Does this mend it?”

Victor pretends to think about it but then Yuri feels something impulsive run through his veins and he’s tugging Victor closer, mouth against the curve of his ear.

“Or how about I do something more than that?”

It’s almost endearing how Victor loses all composure immediately, breath shallow and barely doing a good job of keeping himself together to flounder up a flight of stairs.

They stumble through the first room on their right, reddened lips against racing pulses and hands clawing at each other’s clothes. Victor lets out a groan and-

“Oh hey Yuri.”

There’s something strangely ironic about the situation, Yuri thinks, but he can’t place his finger on it when his brain is muddled and hazy with lust and alcohol. It’s only tomorrow morning when Yuri wakes up mortified at having his best friend witness him groping his partner for the night while Phichit mourns that he prevented his friend from getting laid that he would truly get it.

A large stain had formed on the carpet and Phichit presses down on it, his fingers wet and sticky with the liquid it’s been soaked with.

“Yuri…the floor is _really_ drunk,” Phichit says mournfully, a half empty bottle of tequila in his hands, tapping the carpet with his hand, “Can you hear the fucking _splash_?”

Victor and Yuri pause to look at each other before promptly bursting into laughter.

“P-phichit!” Yuri gasps out between giggles as he clutches his shaking sides, “W-what are y-you do-pfft! What are you doing t-there?”

“Wasted alcohol,” Phichit answers just as his eyes roll to the back of his head and he passes out on the floor, spilling the rest of his bottle on himself.

“Sorry Victor,” Yuri sighs, “It seems I’ve got to take him back.”

“No, no it’s okay,” Victor says, “But neither of you are in the state to go back, how about the two of you stay here till morning?”

“Here?” Yuri’s eyes widen in surprise as though he is noticing his surroundings for the first time that night, “In Kap…uhh…Kappy Wifi Omega or something?”

“Well…even I can’t remember what we’re called right now but yes.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine going back on our own.”

Victor gasps, “Yuri, surely you won’t make me let you go out in the cold, dangerous dark on your own?”

“It’s not even that cold?”

“Yuuuuuuri,” Victor whines finally, “Do you really not want me to be around you for a little longer?”

Did Victor just… _pout_?

 “…Yuri?”  Yuri blinks, realising he’s standing close enough to almost feel the warmth radiating from the betraying adorable rosiness that blooms across Victor's deceivingly calm expression.

 _He’s so cute,_ Yuri thinks, _Go on a date with me please_.

“A-alright,” Victor says, “You and Phichit can take the bed behind you. Thomas shouldn’t be back for a while because he’s spending the week at his girlfriend’s.”

Part of Yuri wants to ask who this _Thomas_ was. However, the minute he manages to get Phichit onto the bed, Yuri is hit by a sudden desire to shut his eyes immediately. It didn’t help that whoever this _Thomas_ is, has the softest comforter he’s felt in a while.

As Victor tucks both of them in and leaves a bucket on each side of the bed (in case of emergencies), Yuri finds himself grabbing lightly on the sleeve of Victor’s rumpled dress shirt.

“You can sleep here with us, Victor.”

“Really?”

“There’s enough space,” Yuri smiles, trying his best to blink the sleepiness away from his eyes, refusing to drift off till Victor joins them. Victor is practically beaming as Yuri scoots over to make room for him. He climbs up onto the bed and curls up against Yuri, feeling light enough to float amongst the cheap glow-in-the-dark plastic stars stuck on the ceiling.

“By the way, it’s a yes to the date.”

Yuri merely lets out a yawn as he rests an arm over Victor’s waist, “Hm?”

“Nothing,” Victor replies fondly, “Goodnight, Yuri.”

After all, there’ll be time to talk about it when they wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> can u believe I started this back in january and only finished this in mAY???
> 
> shoutout to my friends who are my inspiration for the drunk antics of the characters in this fic, you guys are the best.
> 
> And thank you if you've read all the way till the end!!
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://sneakycharliesneaky.tumblr.com/)


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